Some Thursday mornings are better than others. Those are the mornings when the day planner page is blank until afternoon, when the torrent of activity remains silent, when for a few hours I can sit quietly with the Word and listen. I love mornings like this.
I've started reading through the book of Acts this week. As I read I underline and make notes about thoughts and ideas I want to spend more time with. I've noted so far how often people are amazed at the boldness and power and testimony of the apostles and the new Christians. I've marked that twice in the opening chapters the followers of Jesus are characterized as having "everything in common," a reference to their gracious, selfless generosity.
I've also noted the uncompromising assertions in this book, assertions made boldly and without apology: "Repent and be baptized every one of you in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins, and you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit."
"Repent therefore, and turn again, that your sins may be blotted out, that times of refreshing may come from the presence of the Lord and that he may send the Christ appointed for you, Jesus."
"And there is salvation in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given among men by which we must be saved."
In a pluralistic society such as ours that worships tolerance and diversity, these words must fall hard on the heart. We have no access to God, to heaven, to blessing, to redemption except through Jesus Christ and then only through personal repentance and faith in Him. One path. No other. No climbing over the back fence. No entry disguised as someone else. Only by acknowledging our personal culpability and turning away from it to Jesus can we make peace with God and enjoy forever what he has for us.
Really takes a stab at our self-sufficiency, doesn't it? Knocks the props out from under self determination. The whole idea changes the nature of the universe from an individual perspective, since now the universe revolves around Jesus and not our individual self-interest.
Why does the Bible have to be so straightforward and narrow? I can think of at least one reason. Jesus said, "You will know the truth and the truth will set you free." God's design for us is freedom. God intends for any willing human being to experience freedom from guilt, shame, depravity, and despair (among other things.) God wants us free to know peace and joy, love and holiness, rest and fulfillment. But only when we set down the chains that bind us can we be truly free. And only when we allow God to unbind us will those chains be taken away. The chains are spiritual and they can only be removed by one who is Spirit. And though he makes arrangement for their removal, God will not take away the chains we have come to love and live with until our heart rejects those chains for the falsehood they really are.
So God says to us, "Repent and be baptized in the name of Jesus." It is the same as saying, "Accept the provision I have made for the removal of your chains and be free." God in Christ destroys the power of the chains to keep our spirit in bondage. Through faith in Christ we accept the invitation to freedom. Through repentance we step out of those chains into freedom. There is no other way, and I am glad because it greatly reduces the need to sort through the religions and philosophies of man to find something that works.
One way to freedom. Simple. Not easy, but simple.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
"If I've Told You Once . . ."
Did your momma ever say to you, with a loud voice and a raised eyebrow, "What did I tell you?" Usually I heard that line at a moment when I was doing something I really, really enjoyed but obviously was not supposed to be enjoying. I also, usually, knew exactly which lecture to which she was referring and exactly what behavior she was expecting. Funny how the standard answer was, "I don't know? About what?" Unlike my wife, my mother never said, "You know about what and if you don't know I'm not going to tell you." No, mom would always make sure I knew exactly why the forthcoming act of discipline was entirely justified. "If I've told you once, I've told you a hundred times . . . (I've heard that since the recession the phase is now "a thousand times.")
There are some things that need to be stated repeatedly in order for us to finally align our thinking and behavior with what we are being told for our good. Jesus, and the rest of the Bible for that matter, repeatedly instruct us to listen, pay attention, take heed, do whatever it is we're being told. It reminds me of a story about an old preacher and the most influential sermon series he ever preached.
The old preacher stood up one day at the pulpit to begin his sermon. The worship choir had prepared the people well. The offering had been taken and once again the people had expressed their thanksgiving for God's provision by giving generously and graciously. The Albrights were smiling, and the Lincolns were happy, and the Mayhughs had that look of simple contentment that made them so likeable. Each family was in its place. Exactly where they always sat. Close enough to be considered friendly but far enough apart throughout the sanctuary to maintain their unique self-identity.
The pastor stood for a moment, hands to the side of the old rubbed wood desk from which he had delivered God's word so many times through the years. He looked out over the congregation, smiled, and said, “Love one another.” Then, without hesitating, he turned and took the several steps back to his chair on the platform and sat down. The organ began the postlude. The people, perplexed, stood, gathered their things and made their way to the foyer, dismissed without another word.
The next week the old man again sat with a calm smile on his face through the other parts of the worship service until it came time for the message. On this day he rose from his chair, laid his Bible open on the pulpit, drew a deep breath, fixed his gaze on one section of the congregation, and said, “Love one another!” Then, again, he sat down and the service was dismissed. Needless to say there was a furor of questions and comments among the congregation, who obviously expected a great deal more sermon for the money they were paying their pastor.
The third Sunday came and again, just as he had the two Sunday’s before, the elderly pastor stood to preach, and with great passion and emotion he instructed his people, “Love one another.”
That was almost more than the deacons could handle. People were asking if the man had finally lost his marbles. Phone lines were clogged with calls, and the rumor mill, oh my, the assumptions and conclusions it produced were legendary. Then came the fourth Sunday and the same message. The Ladies’ Circle wondered if it weren’t time to for a new pastor. The Men’s Coffee Break thought they ought to call in the bishop. The Sunday school teachers union meeting couldn’t help but discuss the negative impact such pastoral conduct might have on the impressionable children. And the outreach committee, they just sat down by the riverside and wept.
The fifth Sunday arrived bright and shining and clear. Word had gotten around about the tizzy going on at the church and lots of folks were there, even people who had never attended the church before. Rumor had it there was going to be a “holy confrontation of speaking the truth in love” if that preacher didn’t do a better job that morning. It was sure to be a service worth attending.
The hymn singing wasn’t quite as loud as usual, and it seemed like no one really wanted to give much time to the prayer requests. Sister Edna increased the tempo of the offertory so much the ushers near about had to run down the aisle to keep up. Everyone wanted to get to the sermon. Through it all, the pastor retained his seat on the platform, mostly with his eyes closed and a calm, peaceful smile on his face.
The last notes of the offertory ended bluntly as Sister Edna hopped off the organ bench and took her seat in the family row where her family had sat in that church for three generations. Edna liked their row because they sat just far enough away from old man Wilson that they wouldn't hear him snort as he fell asleep midway through the message each week.
The old pastor stood. He walked slowly to the pulpit. He set his hands in front of him and bowed his head. The congregation held its breathe. They could not hear the words of his prayer, but those in the closest rows (which were now filled in anticipation of the "confrontation") could see the impassioned look on his face as his lips moved in silent supplication. The old man raised his eyes from his prayer, scanned the capacity crowd and said, “Love one another.” He paused and drew his breath.
"Love one another." He did not raise his voice. He did not flail his arms. he did not pound his fist upon the desk. He simply paused and then he said it again.
"Love one another." He paused once more. You could tell he was done but this time he did not return to his seat. His eyes remained upon the people sitting before him. He paused and he waited.
The people were stunned. He'd done it again. It was too much for one man in the third row. He stood so fast to his feet it made the people around him feel faint. “Pastor,” he shouted loud enough for the entire church to hear. “This is unacceptable!” The “amens” started in the next row back. “For five weeks we’ve come faithfully to church now.” A few more supportive interjections sounded from the back. “We come expecting to hear something profound and inspiring and helpful and practical.” The congregation was fully committed to this brother’s words by this point, some standing and clapping their hands in support. “We pay you and we come here for you to tell us how to live out our lives of faith and how to please God and how to be good Christians and this is all you have to say week after week, ‘Love one another?’”
Silence.
He said it. Perhaps it was the tenor of his voice, or the passion of his plea, or the fact that he was standing three rows back and not in the pulpit, but suddenly everyone in the house knew the man had said more than needed to be said. No. No. They knew he had said exactly what needed to be said. They knew he had put in their language of their hearts what the pastor had been preaching all along. The realization spread like an electric hum through the congregation as each one finally got the message. The man standing in the third row, his face flush from the emotion of his speech, suddenly felt quite uncomfortable standing there all alone, facing the pastor, whose smile of confidence never wavered. He withered and sank into his own pew.
“Thank you, my dear brother. I knew the Spirit would use someone and you would all get the message. Now that you’ve gotten it, go and do it. And when you have done it, I’ll quit preachin’ it. Love one another.”
Why does God keep saying the same thing over and over in his word? Because he’s giving us the opportunity to “get it” and once we’ve got it, to do it, and when we’ve finally done it, then he’ll be able to stop preachin’ it.
There are some things that need to be stated repeatedly in order for us to finally align our thinking and behavior with what we are being told for our good. Jesus, and the rest of the Bible for that matter, repeatedly instruct us to listen, pay attention, take heed, do whatever it is we're being told. It reminds me of a story about an old preacher and the most influential sermon series he ever preached.
The old preacher stood up one day at the pulpit to begin his sermon. The worship choir had prepared the people well. The offering had been taken and once again the people had expressed their thanksgiving for God's provision by giving generously and graciously. The Albrights were smiling, and the Lincolns were happy, and the Mayhughs had that look of simple contentment that made them so likeable. Each family was in its place. Exactly where they always sat. Close enough to be considered friendly but far enough apart throughout the sanctuary to maintain their unique self-identity.
The pastor stood for a moment, hands to the side of the old rubbed wood desk from which he had delivered God's word so many times through the years. He looked out over the congregation, smiled, and said, “Love one another.” Then, without hesitating, he turned and took the several steps back to his chair on the platform and sat down. The organ began the postlude. The people, perplexed, stood, gathered their things and made their way to the foyer, dismissed without another word.
The next week the old man again sat with a calm smile on his face through the other parts of the worship service until it came time for the message. On this day he rose from his chair, laid his Bible open on the pulpit, drew a deep breath, fixed his gaze on one section of the congregation, and said, “Love one another!” Then, again, he sat down and the service was dismissed. Needless to say there was a furor of questions and comments among the congregation, who obviously expected a great deal more sermon for the money they were paying their pastor.
The third Sunday came and again, just as he had the two Sunday’s before, the elderly pastor stood to preach, and with great passion and emotion he instructed his people, “Love one another.”
That was almost more than the deacons could handle. People were asking if the man had finally lost his marbles. Phone lines were clogged with calls, and the rumor mill, oh my, the assumptions and conclusions it produced were legendary. Then came the fourth Sunday and the same message. The Ladies’ Circle wondered if it weren’t time to for a new pastor. The Men’s Coffee Break thought they ought to call in the bishop. The Sunday school teachers union meeting couldn’t help but discuss the negative impact such pastoral conduct might have on the impressionable children. And the outreach committee, they just sat down by the riverside and wept.
The fifth Sunday arrived bright and shining and clear. Word had gotten around about the tizzy going on at the church and lots of folks were there, even people who had never attended the church before. Rumor had it there was going to be a “holy confrontation of speaking the truth in love” if that preacher didn’t do a better job that morning. It was sure to be a service worth attending.
The hymn singing wasn’t quite as loud as usual, and it seemed like no one really wanted to give much time to the prayer requests. Sister Edna increased the tempo of the offertory so much the ushers near about had to run down the aisle to keep up. Everyone wanted to get to the sermon. Through it all, the pastor retained his seat on the platform, mostly with his eyes closed and a calm, peaceful smile on his face.
The last notes of the offertory ended bluntly as Sister Edna hopped off the organ bench and took her seat in the family row where her family had sat in that church for three generations. Edna liked their row because they sat just far enough away from old man Wilson that they wouldn't hear him snort as he fell asleep midway through the message each week.
The old pastor stood. He walked slowly to the pulpit. He set his hands in front of him and bowed his head. The congregation held its breathe. They could not hear the words of his prayer, but those in the closest rows (which were now filled in anticipation of the "confrontation") could see the impassioned look on his face as his lips moved in silent supplication. The old man raised his eyes from his prayer, scanned the capacity crowd and said, “Love one another.” He paused and drew his breath.
"Love one another." He did not raise his voice. He did not flail his arms. he did not pound his fist upon the desk. He simply paused and then he said it again.
"Love one another." He paused once more. You could tell he was done but this time he did not return to his seat. His eyes remained upon the people sitting before him. He paused and he waited.
The people were stunned. He'd done it again. It was too much for one man in the third row. He stood so fast to his feet it made the people around him feel faint. “Pastor,” he shouted loud enough for the entire church to hear. “This is unacceptable!” The “amens” started in the next row back. “For five weeks we’ve come faithfully to church now.” A few more supportive interjections sounded from the back. “We come expecting to hear something profound and inspiring and helpful and practical.” The congregation was fully committed to this brother’s words by this point, some standing and clapping their hands in support. “We pay you and we come here for you to tell us how to live out our lives of faith and how to please God and how to be good Christians and this is all you have to say week after week, ‘Love one another?’”
Silence.
He said it. Perhaps it was the tenor of his voice, or the passion of his plea, or the fact that he was standing three rows back and not in the pulpit, but suddenly everyone in the house knew the man had said more than needed to be said. No. No. They knew he had said exactly what needed to be said. They knew he had put in their language of their hearts what the pastor had been preaching all along. The realization spread like an electric hum through the congregation as each one finally got the message. The man standing in the third row, his face flush from the emotion of his speech, suddenly felt quite uncomfortable standing there all alone, facing the pastor, whose smile of confidence never wavered. He withered and sank into his own pew.
“Thank you, my dear brother. I knew the Spirit would use someone and you would all get the message. Now that you’ve gotten it, go and do it. And when you have done it, I’ll quit preachin’ it. Love one another.”
Why does God keep saying the same thing over and over in his word? Because he’s giving us the opportunity to “get it” and once we’ve got it, to do it, and when we’ve finally done it, then he’ll be able to stop preachin’ it.
Wednesday, January 13, 2010
The Odd Providence of an Earthquake
This coming Sunday, Lord willing, I'll be preaching one of the last passages from the book of Hebrews that we are going to consider in our fourteen month exposition of the book. I have from time to time, as I've prepared sermons throughout this book, reviewed John Piper's sermons on the same book. Yesterday I sat down to study in the late afternoon and decided to look on John's website (www.desiringgod.org) and read his sermon on the same passage I'm going to be preaching. I realized very quickly that the context in which John wrote his sermon had nothing current to do with my situation. He wrote in 1997 just a few days after the earthquake in the San Francisco Bay area that collapsed a bridge. The earthquake and the devastation it caused provided the backdrop for his message the following Sunday but it had little relevance for where I thought we might be headed in Grand Marais, MN in January 2010. So I finished browsing the sermon then set it aside and moved on to other things.
Then, this morning, I woke up to the news of the earthquake in Haiti. I've been in Haiti. Did a six week ministry there in 1984. Had dinner at a restaurant in Petionville. Took pictures of the Presidential Palace. Watched people washing their clothes in the sewage ditch that runs through the center of the city. Visited a hospital. Listened to children reciting their lessons in a school. I've spent today visiting the various internet news outlets trying to get a better look into the very first non-US site God ever allowed me to minister in His name.
A few minutes ago I made the mental connection between Piper's sermon and it's 1997 context and the fact that I'm preaching the same passage and there, in the background, is a devastating, children killing, life-shattering, mortality enhancing earthquake. The passage is Hebrews 12:18-29. The verse of greatest relevance is verse 28: "Therefore, let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, (29) for our God is a consuming fire."
I'm not ready yet to preach these verses, but I thought you might benefit from reading John Piper's sermon on Hebrews 12:28 written in the aftermath of an earthquake. Here's the link: http://www.desiringgod.org/ResourceLibrary/sermons/byscripture/26/695_A_Kingdom_That_Cannot_Be_Shaken. I think you can either read it or watch John preach this message. I believe it us more than well worth the time.
Then, this morning, I woke up to the news of the earthquake in Haiti. I've been in Haiti. Did a six week ministry there in 1984. Had dinner at a restaurant in Petionville. Took pictures of the Presidential Palace. Watched people washing their clothes in the sewage ditch that runs through the center of the city. Visited a hospital. Listened to children reciting their lessons in a school. I've spent today visiting the various internet news outlets trying to get a better look into the very first non-US site God ever allowed me to minister in His name.
A few minutes ago I made the mental connection between Piper's sermon and it's 1997 context and the fact that I'm preaching the same passage and there, in the background, is a devastating, children killing, life-shattering, mortality enhancing earthquake. The passage is Hebrews 12:18-29. The verse of greatest relevance is verse 28: "Therefore, let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, (29) for our God is a consuming fire."
I'm not ready yet to preach these verses, but I thought you might benefit from reading John Piper's sermon on Hebrews 12:28 written in the aftermath of an earthquake. Here's the link: http://www.desiringgod.org/ResourceLibrary/sermons/byscripture/26/695_A_Kingdom_That_Cannot_Be_Shaken. I think you can either read it or watch John preach this message. I believe it us more than well worth the time.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Blogging
I keep reading articles about how to survive in the blogosphere. Authors with a gazillion followers share lists of how to gain a gazillion followers yourself and maybe even make a little money on the side through advertising.
Some of the suggestions have been helpful, like: decide what the point of your blog is and who it will be directed to. I like that one. The point will be whatever point I want to make and I'll direct it to whomever wants to listen. (Which, by the way, I recognize is NOT the point of the aforementioned suggestion.)
I haven't seen this suggestion yet, "Don't blog until you have something to say." I think that would be a good one. I seem to relate to that idea intuitively. I thought blogging would be something I would do weekly. Instead I do it weakly. Sometimes, I don't have anything to say. Sometimes, I have lots and lots to say, but it's not for other people to hear. Sometimes I have things to say that you don't want to hear (trust me on this.)
So here I am today. I just read Joel's blog where he mentioned (or at least implied) that he had not blogged since last April. I love Joel. When he writes, he has something to say. He wrote about how bugs, dragonflies in particular, hatching dragonflies specifically, remind him that all life in this world is dependent on death for life, but how Jesus broke the cycle and now life is dependent on Life once again for life. (My translation.) I just love this.
So here I am today. What do I have to say? Just this: God knows you. He knows where you are in life. He knows what your strengths are and he knows what your weaknesses are. He knows your sins, your guilt, your secret shame that no one else knows. He knows your hopes, your dreams, your ideals. He knows what makes you tick and what gives you fits. God knows your mind, your heart, your habits, and your hangups. God knows your past, yep, every single detail. He remembers stuff you've long ago forgotten. He knows your present. He knows you in the now, and he knows you in the later.
Name something you think God doesn't know about you. Go ahead, name something. Yessir, he knows. Come on, name something, anything you think is a mystery to God. Nothing's a mystery to the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End. That's what those names for God are all about. He knows it all.
That knowledge, by the way, does not just make God real smart. It makes him really, really dangerous! How do you know what he might do with the knowledge he has? How do you know how he will respond to what he knows about you as he deals with you? Scary thought, huh!
God says, "I have loved you with an everlasting love." He loves us above and beyond, and bigger, and better, and wider, and longer, and taller, and higher than all he knows about us. God does not limit himself to what he knows about us in his dealings with us, he relies upon what he knows about himself, that he is love and he loves us with himself in spite of our selfs.
Yes, God will deal with us according to who we are. If we remain sinners bent on rebellion and self-indulgence, then, in love, he will deal with us accordingly. But if, by faith, we accept his evaluation of us, and leave our sin, our wickedness, our spiritual weakness and doubt at the cross where Jesus died for us, then he will deal with us, in love, as beloved children.
When I think about what God knows about me, I, like you, have cause to fear, but I am not afraid. I know that I am loved despite what God knows about me. I know that he chooses to love me first and foremost and forever. I know that if you will let him, he will love you the same way.
And I think like Joel does. The incomparable love of God in Christ Jesus is something worth blogging about.
Some of the suggestions have been helpful, like: decide what the point of your blog is and who it will be directed to. I like that one. The point will be whatever point I want to make and I'll direct it to whomever wants to listen. (Which, by the way, I recognize is NOT the point of the aforementioned suggestion.)
I haven't seen this suggestion yet, "Don't blog until you have something to say." I think that would be a good one. I seem to relate to that idea intuitively. I thought blogging would be something I would do weekly. Instead I do it weakly. Sometimes, I don't have anything to say. Sometimes, I have lots and lots to say, but it's not for other people to hear. Sometimes I have things to say that you don't want to hear (trust me on this.)
So here I am today. I just read Joel's blog where he mentioned (or at least implied) that he had not blogged since last April. I love Joel. When he writes, he has something to say. He wrote about how bugs, dragonflies in particular, hatching dragonflies specifically, remind him that all life in this world is dependent on death for life, but how Jesus broke the cycle and now life is dependent on Life once again for life. (My translation.) I just love this.
So here I am today. What do I have to say? Just this: God knows you. He knows where you are in life. He knows what your strengths are and he knows what your weaknesses are. He knows your sins, your guilt, your secret shame that no one else knows. He knows your hopes, your dreams, your ideals. He knows what makes you tick and what gives you fits. God knows your mind, your heart, your habits, and your hangups. God knows your past, yep, every single detail. He remembers stuff you've long ago forgotten. He knows your present. He knows you in the now, and he knows you in the later.
Name something you think God doesn't know about you. Go ahead, name something. Yessir, he knows. Come on, name something, anything you think is a mystery to God. Nothing's a mystery to the Alpha and Omega, the Beginning and the End. That's what those names for God are all about. He knows it all.
That knowledge, by the way, does not just make God real smart. It makes him really, really dangerous! How do you know what he might do with the knowledge he has? How do you know how he will respond to what he knows about you as he deals with you? Scary thought, huh!
God says, "I have loved you with an everlasting love." He loves us above and beyond, and bigger, and better, and wider, and longer, and taller, and higher than all he knows about us. God does not limit himself to what he knows about us in his dealings with us, he relies upon what he knows about himself, that he is love and he loves us with himself in spite of our selfs.
Yes, God will deal with us according to who we are. If we remain sinners bent on rebellion and self-indulgence, then, in love, he will deal with us accordingly. But if, by faith, we accept his evaluation of us, and leave our sin, our wickedness, our spiritual weakness and doubt at the cross where Jesus died for us, then he will deal with us, in love, as beloved children.
When I think about what God knows about me, I, like you, have cause to fear, but I am not afraid. I know that I am loved despite what God knows about me. I know that he chooses to love me first and foremost and forever. I know that if you will let him, he will love you the same way.
And I think like Joel does. The incomparable love of God in Christ Jesus is something worth blogging about.
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